<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>staying around yours feels like fate by oaseas</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26558779">staying around yours feels like fate</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/oaseas/pseuds/oaseas'>oaseas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Issei refuses to communicate clearly with the boy he likes, M/M, Makki does an excellent job reading between the lines, Roommates, and they were roommates!, during Timeskip</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:01:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,373</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26558779</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/oaseas/pseuds/oaseas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"He knew, rationally, that Makki wasn’t abandoning him, but, as Issei was coming to realise, what he knew and what he could accept were two vastly different things."</p><p>Makki tells Issei he's thinking of moving out. Issei decides the smart way to deal with his resulting unhappiness is to completely avoid Makki. It doesn't solve anything, but Makki does.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>170</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>staying around yours feels like fate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On a Monday morning, fifteen minutes before Matsukawa Issei needed to leave for work, his roommate, Hanamaki Takahiro, dropped a bomb on him. Not literally, although it may as well have been, for all the damage it did. </p><p>“I’m thinking of moving out.”</p><p>Issei’s cutlery made a terrible scraping sound as it grazed the bottom of his bowl. A few rice grains had jumped overboard with his sharp movement, and he set about picking them up to avoid making eye contact. </p><p>"Right,” he said, after pulling himself and his suddenly racing heart together by the seams.</p><p>“Might go and find myself,” Makki continued, unaware of Issei’s sudden dive into the five stages of grief. </p><p>“Like an ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ journey?” Issei asked, because he hadn’t quite let the reality sink in yet. Stage one was, after all, denial. </p><p>“That sounds kinda fun, actually. Maybe I should look into world travel.” Makki opened a cupboard and pulled out a mug, sock-clad feet padding past Issei to the kettle.</p><p>Issei finally looked up. In the morning light of their kitchen window, Makki looked very soft. His sleep shirt was laden with creases and clashed terribly with his hot pink cotton shorts. He was an eyesore and he was beautiful, and he was <em> moving out </em>.</p><p>“The lack of money might be an issue,” Issei said, measuredly. He began to finish the rest of his meal and found that he couldn’t. You can’t eat, his stomach shouted, you need to convince him to stay!</p><p>“I can work abroad,” Makki said, dismissively, “find a job as a bartender in Scotland.” </p><p>“Are you even going to be able to understand them?” </p><p>“I’ll worry about that when I’m there.” This was an incredibly Makki-like thing to say. Despite his distress, Issei felt a little smile pull up the corner of his lips. </p><p>“Sure,” he said hopelessly, because what else could he say? “When are you leaving?” </p><p>“For Scotland?” </p><p>“No, dumbass. When are you,” leaving me, “moving out?” </p><p>Makki poured himself a cup of coffee, offering one to Issei, which he declined. </p><p>“Well,” he said, taking a sip, “I never officially moved in. Most of my stuff is still at my parent’s house, and what I have here can be packed into a duffle. I’m thinking, why don’t I leave Sunday? That way I start the following week a free man.” </p><p>Free. Away from me. </p><p>Issei felt stupid, suddenly. To have not seen this coming was something worth being embarrassed about. Makki couldn’t hold down a single job; didn’t like being tied to one place or one person. Was Issei really expecting more simply because they’d known each other for years? </p><p>“Do you need help packing?” he asked. </p><p>“Never really unpacked,” Makki laughed. Issei was glad Makki was no longer facing him. It allowed him the opportunity to bury his face in his hands, just briefly, and swallow back the loneliness he could already feel creeping through the open cuts in his veins. </p><p>Right, he thought. Never unpacked because this was never long term. Denial took a swan dive off a cliff as Issei slid on the steps of grief and stumbled straight onto number four: depression. </p><p>“Do you know where you’ll actually move?” </p><p>“I’m thinking, why not Tokyo? Whole new world up there. I can start anew.” </p><p>Starting anew means leaving the old behind, Issei thought dramatically, because he’d been best friends with Oikawa for years. </p><p>“That’s … a while away.” </p><p>“332 kilometres! Or less than a few hours by train. So, you can come see me on weekends!” </p><p>Issei switched off his tablet, where he’d been trying and failing to read the news, and placed his cutlery onto his plate. As Makki began to describe the places he’d like to move to — Osaka, Shenzhen, Vienna — Issei scraped his food into the bin. He and Makki moved together like a well-oiled machine, as Makki began wiping down the table as he spoke. Little things he’d taken for granted seemed to scramble for their place in Issei’s mind, suddenly. His heart hurt.</p><p>“Have fun at work,” Makki grinned minutes later, waving from his new place on the couch, unaware that the very core of Issei’s foundations were crumbling. </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Issei, like he had every day of the week since Makki had moved in, didn’t let himself think about kissing Makki’s smile goodbye. He simply turned on his heel and left. </p><p> </p><p>Over the next few days, Issei discovered it was remarkably easy to avoid someone you lived with. Though Makki didn’t have a stable job, he did have a few he bounced back and forth between. As a result, his schedule was chaotic and shifted consistently. This worked perfectly for Issei, who worked eight until four, or longer if he could. </p><p>Since their conversation on Monday, Issei had seen Makki twice. Once as he was heading to work, and another as he was coming out of the shower for bed. Conversation had been stilted; their text log showed Makki’s last message as read: Wednesday, 6:06am. Despite barely seeing each other, Issei did hear Makki in the shower one evening and did see remnants of him at breakfast the following day. </p><p>A note was pinned to the fridge that morning.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Leftovers in the fridge!  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> U good? Text me.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The leftovers remained there until the following night, when Issei found them in the bin. He didn’t text. He wasn’t good.</p><p>Distantly, he was aware he was being an asshole. For Makki, the shift in his behaviour would have come out of the blue. Though Issei knew he’d soon piece the puzzle together, it gave him a few days to work through his feelings. </p><p>That night, as he lay atop his bed, he forced himself to think. </p><p>What’s the problem? he heard Iwaizumi ask. If he closed his eyes and tried hard enough, he could feel the wind from outside the Seijoh gym ruffle his hair. He could almost smell Oikawa’s hand cream; the one Iwaizumi swore he didn’t carry extras of. </p><p>Makki is leaving me, he answered. </p><p>Imaginary Iwaizumi raised his brows. Is that so? he asked. </p><p>Well, no. He’s moving out. </p><p>And you don’t want him to? </p><p>Issei pressed his face further into his pillow, all 188cm of his twenty-two-year-old self sulking. It was incredible the power Iwaizumi’s unimpressed stare held, even when it was imaginary. </p><p>I don’t want him to leave me, Issei thought, because he didn’t. And then, because he knew why, he rolled over onto his back and covered his face with his hands. Oikawa and Iwaizumi leaving had sucked, yes, but it was different. Oikawa and Iwaizumi knew each other, longer and better than Issei and Makki could ever hope to achieve. And that was ok, it was, but Issei was selfish. He wanted someone who knew him that intimately. And Makki did. Or, he could. </p><p>“But he doesn’t want to,” Issei said, very firmly. “And you have to respect and understand that and stop acting like a giant child.” </p><p>Imaginary Iwaizumi smiled at him. Said, good. Now try communicating with him. </p><p>Issei snorted. There were some things, he thought, Iwaizumi couldn’t convince him of, real or not. </p><p>Issei left his room that evening when hunger started to chew at his stomach. The kitchen was deserted and Makki’s door was shut. The note on the fridge was gone, but a new one had taken its place, next to a picture of the two of them, Oikawa and Iwaizumi. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Change of plans.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> If you’re home Friday, see you then.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Makki’s door clicked open as he read it.</p><p>Makki came out with a bag over his shoulder, phone raised to his ear. In his back pocket, Issei felt his begin to buzz. When they made eye contact, Makki hung up, and Issei’s phone went still. Guilt kissed his lips. </p><p>“I thought you were leaving Sunday?” Issei asked, looking at the calendar. It was Friday night, as he’d expected it to say. </p><p>The look Makki gave him was so full of anger and thinly-veiled hurt, that Issei almost choked on it. </p><p>“Yeah,” Makki said, laughing humourlessly, “that was the plan. Then my roommate became an asshole overnight, so I decided to get out of his hair early.” </p><p>Issei’s stomach sank low. He didn’t have anyone to blame but himself. It was too late to apologise and request they spend the weekend together, he knew, so he didn’t even try. He was a coward, perhaps, but he could live with that. </p><p>Issei shuffled into the lounge room and watched as Makki, bag slung over his shoulder, made his way to the front door. I’m sorry, he thought. I was stupid. I don’t know how to tell you I don’t want you to leave. And then, I don’t want you to stay just because I asked you to. </p><p>Dropping his bag at the door, Makki leaned up against the painted wood. His shirt had little sweat patches building under the arms. Issei thought about offering up any of his, about convincing Makki to shower first, about coming up with any and every excuse under the sun to get him to stay. But he was too late. </p><p>Then Makki said, “Will you just tell me what’s wrong?” He sounded defeated.</p><p>Later, if Makki didn’t hate him after this, Issei knew he would cave. He would call Makki, curled into his own bed, kilometres away from his friend, and would let himself speak. Would say, <em> I’m scared, I can’t lose you, I can’t be alone </em> and listen to Makki say, <em> you’re not, you’re being silly, I’m moving away for a bit, not forever </em>. </p><p>He knew, rationally, that Makki wasn’t abandoning him, but, as Issei was coming to realise, what he knew and what he could accept were two vastly different things.</p><p>“Thought you were leaving,” he snapped, trying not to sound wounded. He failed. His voice came out exhausted and sad, instead. “Don’t let me keep you.”</p><p>Makki narrowed his eyes. “If you wanted me to stay,” he said slowly, like he was speaking to a particularly fussy child, “all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to throw a tantrum.” </p><p>Makki was furious. Issei could see it in the harsh curve of his spine, in the way his shoulders folded in on themselves, and in the furrowed twist to his thin brows. Selfishly, Issei thought he had no reason to be this upset. It wasn’t as if the last of his best friends was walking away from him. Imaginary Iwaizumi smacked the back of his head and called him a dick.</p><p>Issei shrugged. Said, “I didn’t want you to be unhappy.” Because it was true and because he had a horrible, terrible feeling that Makki was. What did he have to lose, anyway? The fight was beginning to drain from his bones as it was. </p><p>The couch he rested against dug sharply into Issei’s lower back. He tethered himself to the dull almost-pain and did his best to let none of it cross his face. Makki frowned at him and dropped his arms from their tense fold. He seemed confused, now. He took a step away from the door.</p><p>“What do you mean, unhappy?” </p><p>Issei pursed his lips. “I mean what I said. You wanted to leave, so … fine. You can leave.”  </p><p>Makki, like usual, saw straight through him. </p><p>"I’m not running away or abandoning you, Matsun. <em>Jesus</em>. I just said I might need a change of scenery.” </p><p>Issei knew that, he did, and he understood it, too. But it was too hard to let Makki go, some days. Even when it was Issei doing the leaving. He settled on shrugging again.</p><p>Makki saw through his unwillingness to speak. He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath, sending his bangs flying. He muttered something under his breath, maybe a pep talk, because he seemed to steel himself a little after it. </p><p>“Are you mad at me for leaving? Because we could have talked about this like adults.”</p><p>“I know,” Issei said, “I’m not mad at you, but I …” He trailed off before he could say something stupid. But I want you to stay a little longer. I want to be enough for you. I’m selfish. He swallowed the words down as they built themselves up. </p><p>“But you what?”</p><p>Issei changed the topic. “Are you still going to Tokyo? For your change in scenery?” </p><p>“No,” said Makki. He considered Issei for a moment. “I was thinking somewhere closer to home — to here.” </p><p>“Oh.” Issei swallowed. “Where?” </p><p>Makki paused for a moment. When he looked at Issei, it was like he was weighing something up. When he looked at Issei, he looked long and hard, and something in Issei must have looked back, must have shouted <em> please! I can’t say it! I don’t know how! </em>because his face settled. </p><p>“I was thinking,” Makki said quietly, “that moving from my bedroom to yours should be good enough. I was thinking maybe you’d want that too.” </p><p>Issei had to take a moment to check he’d heard correctly. Makki’s ears were hidden by his hair but judging by the slow spread of pink across his cheeks, Issei was sure they were burning. His own were, at least. His heart was racing, too. Still, he didn’t let himself hope just yet.</p><p>“You want to swap rooms?” he asked, because if Makki did, then he would, no matter how annoying or complicated the process was. If that was all it took to have him stay, then he’d do that and more. Issei wondered if there was a way he could move his cupboard without having to empty and refold everything. </p><p>Makki sighed and came closer. </p><p>“Some days,” he said, “I wonder if you accidentally buried your brain alongside someone’s body.” He didn’t give Issei the chance to protest before his hands were reaching out. </p><p>Makki’s skin was warm against Issei’s cheeks. A little bit sweaty, too, but Issei couldn’t fault him. The aircon in their unit was broken, after all. Makki thumbed at Issei’s cheek for a moment and then slipped one hand down to cup Issei’s jaw, before resting it, delicately, on his throat. </p><p>“No, moron,” he continued, and Issei watched the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I want to move into yours.” </p><p>Oh. </p><p>“Oh.” </p><p>The thing was, that wasn’t a horrible idea. In fact, it was such a perfectly clever idea that Issei had dreamed about it before. Makki, wrapped around him early every morning. Makki, shoulders peppered with freckles, kissing down Issei’s neck. Makki, coming home to him after throwing newspapers on lawns or walking dogs or handing out fliers. Makki, Makki, Makki. </p><p>The thing was, he’d never dreamed that Makki would feel the same. </p><p>“Hey, you with me?” </p><p>Issei let Makki tilt his head down and thought he’d help by pressing their foreheads together. Realising he was standing still, he let himself reach out and wrap Makki in close, with a hand on his lower back, and another on his waist. </p><p>“Hi,” he said, a little dumbfounded, and watched the tiny bubble of nerves seep from Makki’s eyes.</p><p>The atmosphere had done a 180 between them; the two of them had never been good at remaining mad at each other — a blessing and a curse.</p><p>Makki’s lips wobbled, like he was trying desperately not to laugh. He swallowed and said, “Hey.” </p><p>“This isn’t funny,” Issei said. He was still reeling from the knowledge that no, he hadn’t fucked up and that yes, he was allowed to touch. That Makki wanted him to, and, with how he kept eyeing up Issei’s lips, that Makki might want him to do more. Issei’s heart opened up a door deep within him and kicked grief and its five stages out on its butt. </p><p>“No,” said Makki, biting his lip, “it isn’t.” Then he started to laugh like the traitor he was, and Issei stood there and pretended like his heart wasn’t about to break forth from his chest to sing. </p><p>“Are you ever gonna kiss me?” Issei asked, because if Makki was going to make him feel embarrassed, then he was going to turn the tables back on him.</p><p>Makki bit down on his lip as his laughter trailed off. </p><p>“You’re so dramatic. Like Oikawa.” Quieter, he murmured, “Why did you make this so hard on yourself, huh?” Issei got the feeling he wasn’t supposed to hear it, so he pretended that he hadn’t, even though it sent a rush of giddy hope through his veins. </p><p>They were the same height, almost, but Makki still angled his face down a little, once more. They looked at each other for a moment, the air between them charged with something, before Issei could hold out no longer, and leaned in. </p><p>Makki kissed like he was looking for something. His tongue and mouth and hands searching and probing for new land that he could stake claim to. Issei let him take whatever he wanted, pressing the lines of their body as close together as he could, fingers sinking deep into wild, pink-tinged hair. </p><p>“Stay,” Issei gasped, feeling Makki’s pinkie settle against the skin under his shirt. “Stay. Don’t leave.” Not without me.</p><p>“Only if you fold my clothes into your drawers,” Makki moaned, as Issei set about carving his way down that perfect throat. Kiss after kiss after kiss. “I’m too lazy to do it myself.” </p><p>Makki’s words punched a smile out of Issei, pausing him in his attempt to suck a visible claim into that expanse of soft skin. He drew back.</p><p>“Asshole,” he muttered, letting Makki laugh into his mouth. They kissed again, but Issei’s mind wasn’t quite settled yet. He figured Makki knew him well enough to recognise this and was proven right when his best friend pulled back after a moment. </p><p>What now? Issei expected him to say. </p><p>“Matsun?” </p><p>Issei tried to wrestle his vulnerability under a blanket, but it didn’t care to remain put. He said, “What happens when you get restless?” and tried not to feel like he needed to flee. This was Makki, he told himself. He’ll understand. He kissed you. He’s a good person and he cares. </p><p>Makki looked at him like he was dumb, but the tender way he pressed his thumb into Issei’s bottom lip said that he didn’t care.</p><p>“Then you move with me back into my room,” he shrugged, like it was that easy. Maybe it was. And yet. </p><p>“Makki.” </p><p>Makki looked at him for a long moment. His fingers drew back from Issei’s face and lips to search out his hands, and when he found them, he held tight. Issei swallowed past the fear in his throat. They’d kissed, yes, but Issei couldn’t go on without knowing. Would it last a week? A month? Makki had never expected to live here long term, so would he expect the same when it came to Issei?</p><p>Gently, Makki said, “Then, we’ll figure it out.” He squeezed Issei’s hands. “Together, okay? I’m not letting the best thing in my life escape me that easily.” He paused and Issei watched his confidence drain into something more vulnerable. </p><p>Makki ducked his head for a moment. He pulled one hand back to rub the back of his neck. Issei wondered what made him feel so embarrassed, but his heart was too busy rattling his ribcage, proclaiming <em> the best thing! </em>at the top of its lungs, to put much thought into it.</p><p>“I’m not letting the best thing in my life escape me that easily,” Makki repeated. “I love him too much for that.” </p><p>Oh.<em> Oh.  </em></p><p>“Takahiro,” Issei said, a little wobbly laugh. He thought if he didn’t sit down soon, he might do something stupid, like swoon, so he let Makki see his desire and let Makki tug him in close. “I love you,” he said, because it was ok to and because Makki wouldn’t walk away. </p><p>“Issei,” he said, “I love you the most.” </p><p>“It’s not a competition,” Issei retorted, heart doing backstrokes around his chest now, “but I’d win if it was.” Then, he took a deep, shuddering breath, kissed the corner of Makki’s lips, and said, “Ok. We’ll figure it out. Together.”</p><p>And they did. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>title from 'things i thought were mine' by alfie templeman. </p><p>i haven't actually published fic since 2016. i wrote this in one day, avoiding my assignment and ignoring a folder of many other, far older wips. i can only hope it's not dismal. </p><p>thank you in an advance for any kudos or comments. they mean the world to me.<br/>[find me @sportanlme on twitter]</p><p>finally:<br/>me (handshake emoji) matsun<br/>thinking makki is rly beautiful and not wanting to live w/o him</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>